


the wind rises

by subaquatic



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, M/M, eiji is the son of a rich hotel owner and ash is an american aristocrat who stays at said hotel, it takes place before the us entered ww2 so things are chill, it's a happy ending I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25222288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subaquatic/pseuds/subaquatic
Summary: In the summer of 1940, right before the world had begun to change, Ash and Eiji meet at a hotel in Matsumoto.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	the wind rises

**Author's Note:**

> pulling up to the event extremely late as usual but here we are !! [jazz hands]
> 
> this is a re-post of a fic originally put up in june, which i took down and restructured before posting again because i didn't like where i was taking the story. but we're in luck: this new chapter is nearly twice as long! if you read the old version of this chapter please know that i am /so/ thankful, and i promise that this new version, though it has some scenes you've already seen, is a much more interesting read!!!
> 
> some things:
> 
> \- inspired by backwardd's lovely [art](https://backwardd.tumblr.com/post/620414821691686913/the-wind-rises-chapter-1-subaquatic-banana) entitled "orchard". please go show charlie, the talented artist, some love!!  
> \- title is from the studio ghibli movie, which is one of my favorites. i once watched that, atonement, and when marnie was there all in the same week in april, and this is what happened. i'm rusty as shit w this whole writing thing but oh well, please enjoy my attempt!!!  
> \- for shi, because they had to witness me obsessively scream about this shit and then obsessively scream about louis hofmann for like 2 weeks straight. shi, i'm so sorry for being a straight up crazy bitch please forgive me  
> \- ash and eiji are 21 and 23, respectively. also, in good old dancin' romancin' tradition, men still usually wore suits/long-sleeved shit at the time
> 
> **please heed the warnings:** blood and wounds, implied period-typical homophobia, comphet (these will be updated as i post)

_“Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us.”_ _  
__\- Sappho_

Summer in Matsumoto, Nagano starts slowly in May, when the air grows thick with rain and smothers the earth, the warm haze of it settling around everything like a blanket. In the mountains, the colors of the world become muted, become tired. Book paper curls in the humidity. Fruits fall and crash onto metal roofs. The wind itself becomes still and sullen and lazy, the clouds darkening with rain. And in between sparse days of restful sunshine, cicadas chirp in the trees as children play in the grey hills before the downpour starts and they are ushered back into their homes, away from the rain and the darkness. 

In July, when the rains stop, the heat rises and the sun comes out, imposes and bears down on everything and everyone. Even in the mountains, the days become hot and oppressive and filled with light. Clothes that hang to dry in the sun become lighter and less layered. People stay in their houses more often than not, languor coaxing them into one long fever dream. The breeze becomes gentle and hesitant, the leaves of the trees shifting ever so slightly as the entire world simmers and comes to a boil. And the living things come out— bugs, the occasional deer— to rest in the shade of the trees until the heat passes. 

But for a brief moment in late spring, before the heat takes over, the weather is most pleasant— the days alternate between hot and cold, and before the humidity settles in completely the wind picks up, running its fingers through anything and everything. The grass is a healthy green, and damp with rain. Flowers lift their heads towards the sun, expectant. The main lake towards the entrance of the hotel sparkles, the breeze creating waves and ripples in the clear water. And hidden in the sullen forest, in the orchard, in the echoing halls of the hotel on the ridge, is a story. 

______________

The lone flower on the desk was a tulip— pink, freshly picked, and it stood gracefully in a small vase among a few picture frames and a postcard. Nadia knew the Okumuras had a thing for flowers; she’d seen the garden out back. She sat in the main office, sunlight slanting through the tall windows. Most of the furniture was imported, she’d heard, from back in the hotel’s early days. 

She took out her notebook, pen, and cassette recorder, and set them all on the table in front of her. There were more tapes in the luggage she’d brought up to her room; any less and she’d have to take a day off to get the private bus that went back down the steep, winding trails of the mountain to buy some more.

On the antique clock on top of the bureau behind the desk, the clock had just struck 3:15pm. She was a bit too early, but the front desk let her in anyway, saying the president would be with her in a second. Nadia had considered leaving to explore the place a bit, but now that the receptionist knew she was inside, she didn’t feel like leaving to go anywhere else. 

There was a knock on the door, and Nadia watched as the door slowly opened to reveal a plump, impeccably dressed woman. Nadia immediately recognized her from the family pictures she’d seen hanging in one of the display cases, among shelves of placards and trophies.

The woman’s hair had begun to seriously start graying, a streak of white hair tucked neatly into an elegant bun. But her eyes—her eyes were the same. And that kind expression on her face was unmistakable.

Nadia stood up. 

“I assume you’re here for the memoir?” Hisako Okumura said, and closed the door behind her. 

“Yes,” Nadia replied. She watched as Hisako took her seat behind the large desk and folded her hands together on the surface. 

“Please,” Hisako said, gesturing for Nadia to sit. Then, rethinking something, she stood up and walked to a small table in the corner of the room, where a teapot and two cups had been carefully placed on a tray earlier. “Cup of tea?” 

“Yes, please,” Nadia said. “My name is Nadia, by the way. Nadia Wong. Nice to meet you.” She politely bowed and graciously accepted the cup of tea handed back to her, and folded her hands around it as Hisako back down in the large chair.

Bowing in response, Hisako said, “Nice to meet you as well.” 

They regarded each other a moment, and then Hisako gestured towards Nadia to start. “Shall we begin?”

Contrary to what Nadia had prepared for, Hisako was open and very cooperative at answering her questions. For the first half-hour, she gave an outline of her childhood in a upper middle class neighborhood near the city: how her family had moved to Nagano after buying the land the hotel now stood on; how her father oversaw every aspect of the construction; what her mother had been like in the years before she died when Hisako was a girl.

“So, from what I understand—you officially took over as president in,” Nadia checked her notes, “1955?”

“No, 1957,” Hisako corrected. “Thirty-one years ago. My father had passed.”

“I’m sorry,” Nadia said. "I’d imagine it’s hard to exist in this industry as a woman. Especially on such a short notice.”

The comment made Hisako smile. “It comes with its challenges, yes. Luckily, I’d had some training before I assumed position.”

“Right,” Nadia said. “If you don’t mind me asking, though, your brother Eiji—you mentioned that he was the one originally being trained to inherit the company. Before you, of course.”

Hisako nodded. In that moment her expression had changed almost imperceptibly, but Nadia couldn’t quite read what had caused it. “What happened there?” she asked, as carefully as she could. “Was he simply not interested in dealing with the operations, or...?” She trailed off, not wanting to misspeak. 

Hisako was silent for a while. She stood up and walked to the nearest window. Then, eyes fixed on the garden outside, she asked, “Did my son really not say anything?”

“No.” Nadia shifted in her seat. “He refused to talk about him at all, actually. Said it wasn’t his story to tell. And Eiji-san’s contact information wasn’t on the official list of family members given to me, either. Which is why I thought to ask you about it, since it would have been the first time anyone had spoken in detail about him.”

“Can’t you proceed without the information?”

“It would be a bad memoir,” Nadia replied. “The hole would be too noticeable, unless we write out many things. I just need to know what not to say. And your son, he’s paying me a great sum to create this memoir.” When Hisako didn’t say anything, she continued. “I’m just trying to piece together a story here, Hisako-san.”

Hisako turned to her. 

“Can we keep this interview off the record first? Then I’ll decide later what we can disclose.”

“Of course,” Nadia said. “It’s your family’s book after all. And your son’s political campaign.”

Hisako sat back down in her chair. Tenderly, she picked up a picture frame, eyed it, and then put it back down. She let out a long exhale, and then said, “Our family— we haven’t talked about my older brother in many years. We decided to have the case closed years ago.”

“This was a public investigation?”

“Yes. He’d left a letter, you see, saying that he was alive somewhere and that he had left out of his own volition. But one could never be sure, especially considering the hotel began to make good profit at the time.” 

"People could've had held grudges against your father."

Hisako nodded. "Exactly."

“I see. I heard you and Eiji-san were close.”

“We were, yes.” 

“Do you know why he left?”

Hisako was silent. Then, quietly, she said, “No. No one knew.”

Now Nadia wished she could write this down. Instead, she only sat up straighter. “Did he leave anything else behind?”

“Just the note telling us he was leaving.” Hisako said. “Nothing else. 

“And this was before the war?” 

“Yes, right before it. In the summer of 1940.”

  
  


______________

  
  
  


“Did you hear? The rooms are completely filled as of today,” Hisako said one bright morning, when the sun was bright overhead. She and Eiji had been by the river all morning—one of the smaller ones hidden in the forest, reading and dipping their feet and lounging about on the grass. Here, the water flowed languidly, small fish scuttling between the rocks. “There’s a whole lot of guests scheduled to come this afternoon.”

She turned over onto her stomach and rested her chin on her palm, using her other hand to spread out the book on the surface of the picnic blanket they’d laid out. 

Beside her, Eiji knew they were really there because she needed him to talk to about her boy troubles, the good listener that he was, and in truth he was waiting for her to start. But she hadn’t said anything, and so he resigned himself to just letting the time pass until he’d have to go back to work in the afternoon.

Occasionally a dragonfly swooped down and lightly hovered above the surface of the water, then flew out of sight. The sky was clear and bright. Every so often, a big gust of wind would sweep through the clearing, sending the water inching out towards Eiji’s bare feet. 

Eiji let out a sigh, draping his arm over his eyes, blocking out the sunlight. He unfurled his palm and stretched out his fingers, satisfied when he heard the click of his joints. Blinked his eyes open, he squinted at the light. 

In that moment, he felt the light breeze as it combed through the grass, the familiar rush of wind through the trees. “Should be anytime now, then. New foreigners for you to fool around with.” 

“Oh, quiet. Maybe they’ll be handsome. Wouldn’t you like it if I ended up marrying a European?”

“Poor guy.” 

Hisako threw her shoe at him, which Eiji expertly dodged. “Hey, now you’re being mean.” 

A few seconds of comfortable silence passed, as Hisako tried to read, but Eiji knew they’d been at the river long enough for her to get bored. She closed her book with a sigh. “Are you coming to dinner tonight?”

That made Eiji laugh. “Do I have a reason not to?”

“Not really. Father will want you. And besides, Ibe-san and his family will be there.” Hisako closed her book. “You know, if Kizuna’s coming, we’ll have to team up to keep her company again, you and me.”

Eiji hummed at that. He liked that Hisako, even when they were children, had always considered him an equal, different mothers and two-year age gap and all.

In the distance, a car beeped, probably another guest pulling into the hotel. There were a lot of foreigners coming around this time around, ever since the Old Man’s deal with the tourism board. If Eiji thought too hard about the dinner he knew he’d make himself sick with nervousness, so as with anything that involved family he decided to actively not think about it and instead focus on what was directly in front of him.

He turned to face the sky, hands behind his head as he stretched out on the grass, feeling his back align with the hard ground beneath him. Brightness burning his eyes, he lifted a hand to his face, palm facing the sky, and stared at the clouds between his fingers, thinking resolutely to himself about what it must feel like to fly.

After another hour, he and Hisako walked back in the mild heat. They were halfway to the hotel’s entrance when behind them, a car slowed, tires crunching on the gravel and loose soil of the path. 

“Hey, asshole!” The voice was a familiar one from Eiji’s childhood, one that recalled images of a pair of knees dirty from playing in the grass. Turning and immediately recognizing the face behind the wheel of the pristinely white car, Eiji broke into a smile. 

“Juichiro!” he and Hisako exclaimed at the same time. 

Eiji walked back a few steps and put a hand on the roof of the car, leaning down so that he got a glimpse of his older cousin’s face. “We weren’t expecting you until later.”

Juichiro Okumura only grinned, all teeth and reassurance. Solid where Eiji was pliable. “Felt like stopping by early. ‘S not often I get to see you guys, anyway.” He raised a hand and waved at Hisako, who was a few steps behind Eiji.

“New car, huh?” Eiji said. 

“Brand new model,” Juichiro replied. “It’s yours if either of you want it later.” 

“Are you coming to dinner tonight?” Hisako piped up. She held her bangs in place with one hand, shielding it from the wind. 

“Of course!” Juichiro replied. He leaned out of the window to take a look at the path. Surely enough, it was sweltering outside. “Shit, it’s hot today, huh? Want a ride back?”

And so the three of them squished into the front of the small two-seater. Even with the added shade, the heat was still palpable. 

Summer in Matsumoto was a force to be reckoned with.

Eiji rested his arm on the edge of the car, and gave the metal two light taps before Juichiro pressed on the gas and they started driving on the dirt path, the breeze ripping past Eiji’s ears, golden light everywhere.

The Hotel Kusakaru, hailed by the tourism board as a paragon of Westernization, was a low cluster of buildings rising in the lush, sprawling land in the tree-lined mountains of the Japanese alps. Dutch roofs and wooden balconies lined its exterior-- stately and grand, the establishment was the sort that had the newspapers talking for weeks about a vision of the future. Hisui Okumura, Eiji’s father, had overseen the construction period when it was built from the ground up, and it was still relatively new, but already the rooms were mostly full of foreigners and rich Japanese who had come to take refuge away from the heat and swarming bustle in the cities. 

Eiji had been drinking at a big table in the veranda in the main building, beside Hisako and across Juichiro and Kizuna Ibe, Shunichi Ibe’s daughter. Like Hisako, she had come in her best dress, hair cropped short on her head, with matching pearl earrings and a necklace. Behind her, at the big table in the balcony, Hisui Okumura and his colleagues talked politics and business, the evening thick with humidity and cigar smoke. 

Around them, piano music played as guests from the hotel poured in for their dinner, wearing their best clothes for the official summer welcoming party. Everything was even grander than it normally was— smoke from cigars clouded and trailed into the air where moths circled under the warm yellow lights, and chatter and the sound of silverware clinking against ceramic plates filled the room. Occasionally, someone’s laugh rose up above the ambient noise. Hanging off the edges of the roof, lanterns burned bright in the sweet, sticky air.

Back against the balcony, Eiji sat facing the bar on the far side of the room. 

He had been making eye contact—all accidental, of course—with one of the foreign newcomers, a young man with light hair who sat at the bar on the far side of the room. The first time had been coincidental and pleasant, but the succeeding few times had been bordering on awkward, with Eiji averting his eyes as fast as he could. Fearful it might accidentally happen again, Eiji kept his focus on the conversation happening in front of him and tried to stop feeling like a deer in the headlights.

“You’re going to forget all about us when you go abroad,” Eiji said, keeping his eyes forward. Behind Kizuna's head, in the corner of his vision, the foreigner was talking amicably to another guest. A relative maybe, or a colleague.

“Oh shush, he definitely will. Let the man live.” Hisako reached out to punch him on the shoulder. “Hey Juichiro, if German women really are something else, you’ll tell me all about it, right?”

Kizuna shook her head at this. “Please, he’ll stop writing 3 months in, just watch.”

Juichiro laughed. “I’ll at least send a postcard.”

“Lucky bastard. I wish I could study in Europe. But father won’t let me go on my own.” Hisako frowned and let out a huff. 

Eiji said, “That’s because you cause trouble wherever you go without me.”

“Oh, shut up.” She turned to Kizuna and Juichiro. “There’s no way I can win. It’s torture, really. A full-on dictatorship.” 

That sent the table laughing, and Eiji caught Kizuna’s eye from across the table, before realizing this was the perfect moment to do what he had planned all afternoon. 

He looked at her and asked, “Would you like to step out for a while?” When she hesitated, he said, ‘Just around the entrance, there’s a lot of light there.”

Kizuna smiled then, and nodded. The two of them excused themselves and tried not to mind Hisako and Juichiro’s knowing smiles, and walked together towards the exit of the veranda. 

On their way out, they passed the two foreigners talking at the bar.

They turned the corner into the empty lobby and passed the receptionist, who politely bowed at them when he made eye contact. Above them, the chandelier was bright and sparkling.

They came out the entrance by the driveway and started walking side by side on the perimeter of the hotel, on the main road. Just a little out of reach of the amber lights of the hotel’s exterior, the night was awash in moonlight.

“How— how have you been?” Eiji asked. He couldn’t think of anything better to say.

“Fine. Keeping busy,” Kizuna replied. “And you?”

“The same.” 

They created empty conversation like that for a while, occasionally lapsing into comfortable silence as Eiji turned the corners of the perimeter, footsteps echoing on the pavement. When they’d done one full round around the building, he started leading her towards one of the inner gardens, where there was a koi pond and a small tree. There, they sat down on the deck and dangled their feet off the ledge, the moon massive and luminous above them. 

Eiji quietly pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket coat. He stuck one in his mouth, and then politely offered one to her.

“Yes please,” she said, taking the cig from his hands. He reached out and lit her cigarette before lighting his own, and then put the lighter back in his coat pocket. 

They stared out at the garden for a while, not saying anything, simply listening to the sounds of the pond and imagining the slow, drifting movements of the koi there. 

After a while, the weight of obligation pushed Eiji to break the silence. 

“Good weather tonight, huh?” he said, turning to her.

“It is,” she said, and Eiji saw her amusement was genuine. He felt gratified, seeing her like that. “I’m happy— I’m happy you brought me here. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

They smoked together for a few minutes in a years-old, semi-comfortable silence, and then Eiji figured it was the appropriate time to leave. 

“We should head back soon. They’ll be getting suspicious.” He crushed his cigarette beneath his feet then stood up and offered Kizuna his arm. She took it and he helped her up.

They walked back through the lobby and the front desk, footsteps echoing on the cold marble floors. Noise flooded back into the room and then they were in the veranda again, music in the background while everywhere, people talked and laughed. 

“You’re back! How was it?” Hisako said, when they neared.

“I showed her one of the gardens in the East Wing. The one with the koi pond.” Eiji said, as Kizuna returned to her seat beside Juichiro, who said something to her as she was sitting down which made her laugh. 

“Oh, I love that place! So tranquil, don’t you agree—”

They lapsed into comfortable conversatio until twenty minutes later, in the corner of the balcony, Eiji’s father stood up. 

“I’d like to announce a toast,” he said, voice resonating throughout the veranda as he scanned the room. Immediately the place fell silent, musicians stopping mid-song, the lone dying note of a violin resounding in the silence that followed. “What we are experiencing now would not be possible without the talented few who have helped me create what we have here. Summertime has officially come, and with that I welcome you all. I am grateful to every single person who has come to join me tonight at this establishment. I wish you all the most joyous of stays.” His eyes landed on Eiji for the briefest of moments, and then he looked away.

In the seconds that followed, people stopped to raise their glasses and drink. Eiji downed all the beer left in his glass: a German brand, one he was sure he wouldn’t pronounce correctly if he tried. He liked sake better. 

And then once the toast was finished the room erupted in applause and the music started again as everyone went back to eating and talking about their own small lives. 

Across the room, the foreigner was looking again.

 _Figures_ , Eiji thought. He met the other's gaze for a second too long, and for lack of anything better to do, raised his glass. The foreigner smiled and promptly returned the gesture, and then he broke eye contact and looked away. Conversation carried on pleasantly above the notes of the piano, while Kizuna turned to Juichiro and continued asking him about a book he had read. 

Eiji leaned in to whisper to Hisako. “Say, the guests, the new arrivals from this afternoon. Have you met them?”

Hisako looked at him, confused. “No, I haven’t yet. Why?”

“Nothing really,” he said, and shrugged, and got the half-empty bottle of sake in front of him and poured it into a shot glass. “Just curious.” 

After dinner, Eiji helped Kizuna up the car that had come to pick her up, Juichiro and Kizuna standing behind him, outlined by the amber light of the driveway lights. 

“Tonight was nice,” she said. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course.” Gently, he took her hand and helped her up the car. She closed the door and they shared a look through the window as the car started to move. He raised a hand, and she raised one back, the lot of them waving at each other until the car disappeared down the dirt road and was gone. 

Now, Eiji lingered by the doorway, watching his mother dry plates with a towel, unspeaking and still. In this light, she was beautiful but weary-looking. 

“Let me help,” he said, moving closer. 

Recognizing his voice, she looked up and smiled. Gently, he took the plate and the towel from her, and started drying it, this small gesture of goodwill. She’d been told that he wasn’t supposed to do these things anymore but she let him help anyway, leaned on the sink next to him. 

He put a dry plate on the stack on the metal table behind him, to be carted off back to the storage for use again in the morning. 

“How was it?” she asked.

“How was what?”

When she turned silent, he knew she had heard the venom in his voice. He cursed at himself again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his mother.

“Sorry.” He sighed. “It went fine.” 

“Did it really?” She leaned backward, trying to get a good look at his face. 

He turned away ever so slightly. “Yes. I’m set to represent the hotel in some meetings next week, when father’s busy.”

She nodded and hummed in understanding. A long time passed, the two of them standing there in silence while the rest of the world slept. The faucet dripped water into the sink, creating a faint tapping sound. 

After a few minutes, Eiji wiped his hands on his pants, hung the towel on the rack, and continued to avoid the gaze of his mother. He felt her shifting beside him. 

She put one warm hand on his cheek. Eiji paused, eyes flicking to her face for a moment. 

“You look more like him everyday. No longer like the boy I knew.” The smile she had on her face was small and sad, like a goodbye. 

This right here, Eiji thought, this. Hisako would never understand.

“I’m still your son, Mom,” he said. “You think too much.” 

He turned and put his hand over hers, eyes averted. After a few seconds, he pulled away and then left.

  
  


______________

  
  


“Was it an arranged marriage?” 

Hisako turned back to look at Nadia. She had trailed off a moment there, only for a second, while looking out the window.

“Sorry?”

“Eiji-san and Kizuna Ibe, I mean,” Nadia clarified. “Was it arranged?” 

“Yes, it was,” Hisako replied. “My father and Ibe-san were childhood friends who had grown up in the same social circles. Eventually as a gesture of goodwill and because Ibe’s business was also booming, they thought it would be a good idea to combine their wealth and have Eiji and Kizuna marry each other when they were both of age. And we'd grown up with Kizuna, anyway, so objectively speaking, to the families involved it was a perfect agreement."

"And this was agreed upon... after Eiji was announced as an official part of the family?"

"Yes."

Nadia asked, “And how did he feel about it?”

Hisako shrugged. “He never talked about it to me. But he never seemed particularly sad about it either. When my mother died and my father realized there was no hope of getting a son unless he remarried quickly, he decided to start preparing Eiji to take on the hotel after him, even if he wasn’t a legitimate son. I think if anything Eiji was happy to do what father had asked him to, to have an important role in the family business.”

“Would you also have been expected to marry into a good family?”

“Naturally, I suppose. But I think my brother took it upon himself in particular to do exactly what our father wanted, being the only son. He and Kizuna bonded hard over the responsibility they had to their families. And if you ask me, I think more than anyone he understood how hard it was for her, too. He never forced her to do anything, tried to appeal to her as much as he could.”

“So, Kizuna and Eiji—they were good friends? Until Eiji disappeared, of course.”

“We were a tight bunch, the four of us,” Hisako said. “I had always assumed that Kizuna and Eiji were close. Maybe not in a romantic way, but a little close to it.”

“Yet he never spoke openly to you about his feelings toward her?”

Hisako shook her head. “No, never. But Kizuna liked him, that much I knew from what she had been telling me. They were friends, at the very least. As much as two people put together for business reasons could go.” 

Nadia thought for a moment. “Besides you, Kizuna, and Juichiro,” she said, “did Eiji have any friends? Someone else he could’ve confided in at the time about any troubles?”

Hisako thought for a moment. “One. A guest.”

“Japanese?”

“No. A foreigner. He stayed at the hotel for the summer. A little over a month. He and Eiji were quite close before Eiji left.”

“Do you know when and how they met?” 

Hisako paused for a few moments to think. 

“A few days later. I’d gotten into an accident, and— he was there to help us. The two of them started talking more soon after that.”

  
  


______________

  
  


At the river, the afternoon darkening around them, Hisako was walking barefoot by the shallow part of the water, arms spread and balancing on some unseen tightrope while Eiji sat on the patch of dirt nearby and tried to read the day’s paper. The words not really registering, he closed his eyes and listened instead to the sound of the unseen birds in the trees. There was life here, so much of it, invisible.

The breeze hung, heavy and unmoving. 

“So what’s this I heard from father about you thinking about studying medicine?”

Eiji shrugged. “I was just thinking about it, is all. It’s not a bad job, being a doctor, you know. And I won’t actually own the hotel until I’m way older, hopefully.” 

“Well, you could do it. Though you’ve already gone to Tokyo U, you know.” 

Eiji narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Being a doctor— it’s just not very necessary, is all.”

“Why?”

“I mean,” she stopped, foot hovering in mid air, and turned to him. “Don’t you like being father’s accountant?”

Eiji looked away.

“I mean there’s nothing wrong with it, but—what, another 6 years of student life? What would your mother think?”

Eij was silent. He took a deep breath, and thought about how perhaps he was meant to be misunderstood, forever. “I said I’d pay father back myself.” He looked at her. “Okay?”

She blinked, and then gave him a look. “Oh, nii-san, you know that’s not what I meant. Look, I was just saying that, ah— ” She grimaced.

“What is it?”

“My foot…”

Hurriedly, he put down the newspaper.

“Are you okay?”

Hisako was holding her foot up, examining the arch of it. Eiji rolled up his pants and walked to where she stood in the water, watching where he stepped. Once he was near enough, she extended an arm and used his shoulder to help herself balance. 

There was a trail of blood that gushed out from Hisako’s wound in weak spurts, into the water. 

“Shit,” he said. “We’ve gotta get you back, now.”

She pushed a strand of hair out of her face and let out a breath. He could see the panic on her face, palpable and strange. 

“Father’s going to kill me. I was supposed to be out back watching over the gardeners.”

“Don’t think about that. Come on,” Eiji said, and crouched so that she could ride on his back. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” she said, and draped herself on him, but before he turned his back on her he saw her face had gone pale. He hitched her up and started his way down the dirt path, eventually breaking out into a run. 

She rested her head on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said. “Hey, don’t die on me, okay?”

In the distance, someone was on the dirt path, climbing the crest of the hill towards them. Eiji ran harder, sweat starting to drip behind his ears to the place where his collar met the skin on his shoulders. 

Blond hair.

They neared each other, and the foreigner raised a hand in greeting. For a moment, his expression turned puzzled when Eiji kept running towards him, then his eyes widened as he saw the wound on Hisako’s foot. 

He jogged towards Eiji. They met on the crest of the small hill, the foreigner’s arms outstretched. 

“I’ll carry her,” he said. His English was American-brisk. “You run and call for help.”

Eiji only nodded, words and etiquette escaping him, and eased Hisako into the foreigner’s arms, and then sprinted past the trees in the direction of the lobby. 

He clambered up the marble steps and stopped by the receptionist’s desk, breathless.

“Can you get me some iodine and bandages please?” 

The receptionist glanced behind him, confused. ‘What for? Is anyone hurt?”

“My sister.” 

Not waiting for a response, he ran back outside, and watched for the foreigner approaching with Hisako in tow. She was pale, but her eyes were still open. Blood dripped onto the soil as they passed. Eiji moved out of the way, heart hammering in his chest. 

“Somebody will have to take the glass out of her foot,” the foreigner said, putting her down on a vacant chair in the lobby. He stepped back to give Hisako space to breathe.

The receptionist had gone off to call someone, maybe one of the maids. 

“I’ll do it,” Eiji said. He turned to Hisako. “Is that okay with you?”

She nodded weakly, quiet and overwhelmed. Around them, people had started to gawk.

Eiji crouched down in front of Hisako and used his hand to support her ankle. With his other hand, he delicately grasped the edge of the glass protruding out of Hisako’s foot. 

“This will hurt,” he said to her. “I’m sorry.” 

He took a moment to gather up his courage. When he pulled, Hisako flinched and gasped out in pain, bringing a hand to her mouth. A moment later Eji held the piece of glass, hand dripping with blood. 

The receptionist appeared back with Eiji’s mother, who had a medical kit. 

“She’ll need stitches,” she said, kneeling beside him. Hisako hissed in pain and then pursed her lips as Eiji’s mother applied iodine on her foot and bandaged it. “Get the medics on their way.”

Eiji nodded to the receptionist, who rushed off to the telephone. A small crowd had begun to gather. 

Behind him, the foreigner was still standing, watching everything unfold. He had shed his jacket, which lay on a nearby chair. Eiji locked eyes with him, and then looked away. 

After Hisako’s foot was successfully bandaged, the crowd was ushered away, back to the lounge areas. Only when the room was empty did Hisako close her eyes and let her head lean on the chair to rest at last. Eiji sat beside her while they waited, and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. 

It was only when the medics came and carted off Hisako into the small ambulance half an hour later did Eiji realize he’d been barefoot the whole time. 

After dinner, when most of the guests had disappeared back to their rooms or to the parlor for drinks and conversation, Eiji walked around the hotel looking for the foreigner. 

He found him sitting at the veranda, smoking and looking out at the dimly-lit forest below. On the table was a hat and a book face down on the surface. 

The air was thick and sticky with humidity, crickets chirping in the distance. A chair scraped as waiters cleaned, the pianist playing one of his last songs of the night. 

Eiji cleared his throat. 

The foreigner turned to look at him. That gaze again, piercing. He blinked, and his expression changed.

“It’s you,” he said, face softening with recognition.

“Hello.” Eiji straightened up and smiled. He was conscious of his accent, but tried not to show it. “Mind if I join you?”

The foreigner shook his head, removing his elbow from the railing of the veranda and gesturing at the chair across him. He leaned back in his chair and tapped the butt of his cigar twice on the tip of the ashtray. 

Eiji cleared his throat again and sat down, moving the chair in. 

“Care for a drink?” the foreigner asked. When he gestured back at him as if to say your choice, he waved one of the waiters over. “Scotch, please.” He raised up two fingers, and Eiji’s eyes followed the waiter as he disappeared into the back room.

After a few moments of silence, he turned back to the foreigner, and met his eyes again. 

“I wanted to thank you,” Eiji said. “For your help with my sister. I am very grateful.” 

The foreigner seemed to loosen up at that. He let out a breath of laughter and waved his hand. “Don’t sweat it. She alright?” 

“She was taken to the hospital a while ago. They said she would be just fine.”

“I’d imagine she won’t be able to walk properly for a few days.”

Eiji let out a breath of laughter. “That is true. Well, I’m glad you were there. If we’d had to wait for the medical kit a few minutes longer, Hisako might have been in more danger.”

“Ah, I did nothing.” He smiled then for the first time since Eiji had met him, all amicable.

The waiter arrived and promptly set two glasses of scotch in front of them. Eiji watched the foreigner take a sip then set the glass back down on the table.

“What you are reading. It is good?” Eiji nodded his head at the book on the table.

“Oh, this?” The foreigner picked up the book and glanced at the title. _The Count of Monte Cristo_. “Not really, but it’s a childhood favorite.” He paused. “You read?”

“A little. Not so much in English.”

“Your English is good. Better than most Japanese I’ve met.”

Eiji leaned back in his chair. “I had lessons growing up. My father, he is the owner. He said it would be useful at some point.”

“And this is what you expected?”

Eiji laughed, looking down at his hands. “Not really.” 

The foreigner smiled. “Well, I can’t speak a word of Japanese. So you’re better than me.” Eiji looked up at him. 

“You are— American, yes?”

He nodded.

“That makes sense.” 

“Think I’m the stereotype, then?”

“No, not that. Japanese— I heard it is a hard language to learn, if you’re an English speaker.”

The foreigner smiled. “And yet you can speak English so well.”

“Well, yes.” It was Eiji’s turn to laugh. 

“To whom do I owe the honor, then?”

“Pardon?”

“Your name,” the foreigner said, expression gentle. “I’m asking what your name is.”

“Okumura Eiji,” he said. “That is my name.” 

The room had gone silent, the piano player having packed up for the day. All that was left was the ambient noise of forest, and the faint echo of clattering plates and laughter as the waiter took to the back room. 

The foreigner extended his hand. “Aslan. But people call me Ash.” Eiji shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

  
  


______________

  
  


“So this Ash,” Nadia said. “What was he like?” 

Outside, the sunlight had begun to lapse into something golden. From her place at the window, Hisako turned to look back at her. She thought for a moment before speaking again.

“He was very handsome as I recall, very intelligent.” Hisako laughed quietly to herself. “In all honestly, I was a bit intimidated by him at first, at least until I got to talk to him. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Him and Eiji, they were polar opposites in that regard. Eiji could get along with almost anyone but he always kept a part of himself hidden, talked about what he really wanted.”

“From?”

Hisako shrugged. “Life. Anything, really. Whatever he was doing, he always just—let other people have their way. That was important to him, that everyone around him was happy and satisfied.”

“Like your father.”

“Right, yes. Especially my father. But Ash, I think he brought out a side of Eiji that had been waiting to emerge, helped him… grow more firm in his decisions, I think.”

“And—did you sense it then at this point? That Eiji had plans to leave?”

“Not at all. I only found out when I read the letter. I didn’t see any of it coming.” 

“Do you think Kizuna-san knew?”

“She may have.”

“Even then?”

“Perhaps,” Hisako said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew something. She never mentioned anything to me about it. But that was the thing about both her and Eiji— they both knew how to keep a secret.”

______________

  
  
The sun had begun to set in the horizon when Eiji trudged up the old dirt path to the river. He walked down the usual path he took when he was stressed, the one that lead out to the hidden river and the toolshed beyond that. Throughout the day the wind had picked up and bit through the open road, and Eiji found himself lifting a hand to hold down his hat.

Nearing the river, he saw that a car had been parked out by the side of the road. The glinting white paint of Juichiro’s two-seater was unmistakable. 

Eiji briskly walked into the small path in the forest leading to the clearing, a smile on his face. Ribbons of light filtered through the canopy of the trees, the rich smell of earth and leaves calming him.

He was halfway to the river when laughter echoed through the forest. 

It was a woman’s, voice high and shrill and almost recognizable. Eiji wondered if Juichiro mentioned any girlfriends to him in the past, but he could remember nothing. 

Confused, he kept slowly walking towards the river.

He arrived at the clearing, just as Juichiro pulled away from Kizuna. When she saw him standing there, she let out a small gasp and dropped the hand that had been resting on Juichiro’s cheek. She looked at Eiji, eyes wide. 

Her lipstick had smeared Juichiro’s mouth a light shade of pink. 

“I—” Eiji said, eyes shifting between them. 

Juichiro only looked at him, mouth opened ever so slightly as if he were about to start speaking.

“I saw your car by the river,” Eiji blurted out. “I thought you were alone. “I’ll go now.” He started back down the way he came.

“Wait—” Kizuna said, getting up to follow him, Juichiro in tow. “Eiji, wait—” 

But by then he had started running, twigs snapping underneath his feet as he rushed through the trees. When they reached the main road, Juichiro caught up to him and put a hand on his shoulder and to block his way. “Look, we can talk this out.”

Eiji only shouldered past him, all quiet anger and nothing else.

“Eiji—” Kizuna started again, but Juichiro stopped her. 

“Let him go,” he said, and Eiji left them standing there by the clearing, alone. He wanted to run, to disappear— 

Near the entrance of the hotel, Eiji passed by Hisako and Ash, on their way out for a walk.

“Oh, hey!” Hisako waved at him. “We were just talking about you—” 

But Eiji only walked past them without a word. He felt the anger of the moment swell up inside of him and craved the silence of his room, the stillness of it. Of solitude. 

From outside, he could feel the weight of Ash’s gaze as he and Hisako stood there in the golden light of the afternoon, eyes trailing after him until Eiji turned the corner and was gone.

“May I join you?” 

The voice startled Eiji from his thoughts the next morning. He had been looking out the veranda and was unaware minutes had passed. 

But it was only Ash who stood there, hat in hand, a strand of hair falling into his eyes. He brushed it back. “Warmer weather today, huh?”

Eiji gestured, and Ash sat across him. Above them, the ceiling fan lazily stirred the warm air. “Good morning.”

“It’s almost lunch time,” Eiji said.

“And yet, here I am.” Ash put his hat down on the table, shrugged off his jacket and leaned back into his chair. He raised his hand, and when the waiter came over, he ordered coffee and a slice of cake. They sat in silence while they waited for his order, Eiji’s attention drifting back to the forest outside, the anger, or whatever it was, that stewed inside him with nowhere else to go. Below them, came and went on the dirt path below, passing each other and occasionally stopping to talk.

Then Ash said, “I met your sister yesterday. She’s very charming.” 

Eiji turned to him. “Yes, I saw.” 

“You stormed right past us.”

“Sorry.”

“You looked angry.”

“It was nothing. Needed to cool off for a bit. Just stress, is all.”

“It looked like more than that.” 

Eiji avoided his gaze. Ash sat back in his chair, scrutinizing him for a moment. Then he shrugged. 

“Kizuna was showing me the trails. She said you have a lot in this area. Manmade. Said you two had grown up here, that you knew all of it, even the hidden paths.”

Something about that sentence made Eiji feel lighter. He let out a breath of laughter, gaze flitting to meet Ash’s. “Yes, I do.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Are you fond of going on walks even now?”

“Yes.”

“Show me, then. The trails. Some time today.” Ash smirked. “If you’re not busy being stressed out, of course.” 

Eiji looked at him, felt like knocking off the smug expression on Ash’s face. He smiled instead. “Deal.”

  
  
After Ash ate his breakfast and Eiji had another cup of coffee, the two of them stepped out into the driveway and headed upward the main road, in the direction of the forest.

Outside, the mid-morning light was not yet hot and oppressive and the day was bright and cool, the humidity of the night before having dissipated and given way to a fresh bout of breeze which grew rarer and rarer at these times. While they walked, Eiji used the opportunity to ask questions about America, about Ash’s small life and where he had been before Japan. He lead Ash to one of the lesser known winding paths in the forest, the trees green and towering beside them, enveloping them in a canopy of green. 

He stumbled on the English a few times, but Ash had always been patient, asked questions when he needed to, and rephrased things if Eiji couldn’t find it in himself to relay quite what he meant. Like him, he learned, Ash liked to read and go on walks, and hated staying in one place for a long time. He had his own secrets, too, but that didn’t seem to matter. And if he had nothing to say, they’d walk in silence listening to the birds chirp, unseen and fluttering in the trees, until Eiji came up with a new question to ask. 

“Are the summers like this in America? Well, I know it is different, but—” 

“They’re cooler. A little less humid,” Ash said. “At least where we live in Virginia.”

“Virginia,” Eiji repeated. “That is near…?”

Ash hummed. He turned so that his back was to Eiji, and drew a square with his fingers. “If this is the States,” he said, and pointed to a place in the southeast, “then Virginia is here.”

“Is that anywhere near California?”

“No, California’s on the other side, here.” He pointed to the farthest point at the left. 

Eiji hummed in new understanding, looking at the spots of sunlight at his feet. He thought about looking at the map in the library later, to familiarize himself with the different parts of the country. 

Eventually, they neared the clearing of the river where Eiji and Hisako had spent their time. Eiji watched as Ash stepped out of the forest and took in the place, a flock of birds bursting out of the trees and drifting in flight above. 

“This is where you guys were coming from, that time?”

Eiji shrugged. “It’s a secret. We don’t like to tell the guests about it, because it’ll get too crowded. We usually just let them find it.

They walked farther into the clearing, stepping through the undergrowth. When they reached the shore, Ash kicked off his shoes and lay his jacket on a nearby rock, then rolled up his pants and the sleeves of his shirt, and walked straight into the water.

 _Shit_ , Eiji thought. “Hey, be careful—”

As he trudged further into the river, the edges of Ash pants began to darken with water. Towards the middle he stopped and turned to squint at Eiji, raising a hand to block the daylight in his eyes. “You say she was cut around here, right?”

Eiji nodded. He watched as Ash peered into the water for a moment and walked around slowly, then pulled out a handkerchief and plunged his hand into the water, and pulled out what remained of a broken beer bottle. 

“This must be the culprit,” he said. He tossed it to Eiji, who caught it by the nozzle. “Was buried a bit under the soil. Better take that back to the hotel. I’d bet there are still smaller shards around, but at least that one’s not bound to break into more pieces.”

He waded back to the shore and they on the rocks, talking a bit and feeling the wind. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, the man who came with you, Max. He is your…?”

“Uncle,” Ash said. “Right, you haven’t met him yet. We work together. Though, I think of him as more like my father.” 

“What makes you say so?”

He expected Ash to deflect the question, or to say that it was too personal. But he only shrugged. “My older brother and him go way back, went to college together and everything. Just your regular working class folk trying to make a living. Eventually, they built the travel agency I work for now a few years back with the money they saved up from their jobs. I was still a kid back then when they were planning it. My dad, he wasn’t so good. But Max and Griff, they raised me." 

“Your brother… Where is he now?”

“Just back in the company, overseeing. Probably glad to be rid of me for a while, if I'm being honest.”

Eiji turned to look at him. Ash’s eyes were closed, taking in the warmth and the sunlight. 

“And do you like it? Your job?”

Ash opened one eye and looked at him. “What, working with Max?”

Eiji nodded. 

“It’s enough. I’ve got other interests, but this is fine for now. Pays good, lets me go places.”

Eiji nodded in understanding. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, basking in the light and the water, the wind in the trees. 

Ash closed his eyes and sat back again, leaning on the heels of his palms and lifting his face up to the light. Eiji watched him closely. Something about all this felt unexplicably easy, unrehearsed. This Ash, he thought, looked like he belonged right here, in this hidden paradise.

“Your turn.”

“What?”

“Tell me about your family.”

Where to begin. “Well, you’ve met Hisako,” Eiji said.

“Yeah.”

“She’s my half-sister. My father had an affair with one of the maids when they were newly married.”

Ash hummed in understanding. “She still around, your ma?”

“I visit her sometimes. Every few days if I can. And we see each other in the halls. She raised me.” He took a deep breath. “I wasn’t meant to have any part in the family business, until Hisako’s mother died. She never wanted me to be a part of the family. But now, I am the only son.”

“And how do you feel about that? The only son thing?”

“Grateful, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I would never have been sent to university. Nor would I have the things I have. I’d probably end up a gardener at best, working on the grounds.”

“Not a bad life.”

“Probably not.” Eiji ran a hand through his hair, thought a moment. “I like what I do now, though. I like feeling useful to my family.” 

Ash nodded. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. More than glad, actually.”

“Why?”

And Ash smirked then and the warmth of it, the familiarity, was something Eiji had not experienced in a long time. “Well, we wouldn’t be here talking otherwise, right?”

  
  
An hour and a half later, after Eiji had taken him a bit further up the trail going higher up the mountains, they turned back and returned to the hotel. Eiji’s feet began to feel sore, limbs tired and ready for rest. 

In the lobby, when Eiji had turned to walk in the direction of his father’s office to check on some documents, Ash stopped him. 

“Come with me for a second,” he said. “I have something to give you.”

Curious, Eiji followed him to his room on the ground floor. They passed a couple down the hall: a man in a suit and a girl with a pearl necklace. 

When they reached his room, Ash unlocked the door and slipped in, motioning for Eiji to follow him.

Inside, Ash had filled the standard layout room with pieces of himself. A pile of jackets lay on the backrest of a nearby chair, an open suitcase rested in the corner of the room, and on the low table was a lone flower in a glass of water and a comb. He kicked off his shoes and walked to the far end of the room cleaning up a little, balling up a few stray shirts on the tatami mats and throwing it into a bag of laundry. 

“This is a Japanese-style room,” Eiji said, finding it hard to disguise the surprise in his voice.

“Wanted the full experience,” Ash said. He rummaged in his suitcase for a bit, tucking a book under his arm. “Back’s not used to lying so low on the floor, though.”

He pulled open the sliding panels that opened up to one of the inner gardens, and Eiji realized then that they were near the place he had taken Kizuna a few nights before, everything still and silent as he stood in the small entrance hall, unsure as he always was with what to do with himself. Eventually, Ash walked back to him, book in hand. 

“I’ll be out the whole day tomorrow,” Ash said, holding out the book. “You can hang on to it for now, until I get back.”

Eiji took it, and held it in his hands. It was leather-bound, and the gold letters embossed on the front cover read, _The American Anthology of French Poetry_.

“You were telling me about your favorites earlier and I don’t even know if you like poetry, but well, I thought— well, I thought you’d want to take a look at it during your breaks. Actually, you don’t have to read the whole thing, just this one poem I think you might like.” 

Eiji flipped open the book and looked for the poem in question. The page in question was dog-eared as Ash had mentioned, and by the way the book fell open easily, it had been read quite a few times. 

“The Graveyard By The Sea?” He looked up at Ash, curious.

Ash reached up to rub the back of his neck. “You can mark it if you want. I know how using a dictionary is sometimes a pain in the ass. Then, when I get back, you can tell me what you thought. And when your father isn’t working you to the bone, you can teach me some goddamn Japanese.”

That made Eiji smile. “Okay.”

“And hey,” Ash said, this time, looking right at him. Eiji met his gaze and thought: forest-green. “Feel better. Whatever it is.”

“I will,” Eiji replied, and the moment he said it, he did. 

  
  
That night, an hour after dinner, Eiji heard a knock on his door. Sitting up from his bed, he wondered who could need him at this hour, then buttoned up his shirt, smoothed back his hair and went to check who it was. 

“Can you let me in?” Kizuna said when he opened the door, glancing behind him to see if there was anyone in the room. She was only wearing the faintest traces of makeup, but her hair had been curled, the pearl white of her earrings spotless and gleaming. 

Quietly, he moved aside and let her in, closing the door behind her. She took off her shoes and kneeled by the low table on the tatami.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, averting her gaze. “Someone might think—”

“I know,” she said. “I know. I just, I needed to talk to you. About the other day.”

Eiji was silent for a while. Then, in a low voice, he said. “What else is there to say?”

“I wanted to apologize. Juichiro, too. He can’t forgive himself.” She laughed bitterly. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

Eiji was silent. “How long?” he said. “You two…”

“Since January. It’s only been a few months.” 

He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath.

“Eiji—” she said. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you.”

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I understand.” 

“Please don’t tell anyone. Not even Hisako. If my father ever finds out—” 

Her voice had turned shaky. He turned back to her. “I won’t,” he said. “I would never.” Quietly, he cursed himself for ever being angry. 

“Please don’t. Please don’t. God, I’m so sorry—” She hid her face in her hands, and her body quietly shook with tears. Eiji sat beside her and pulled her close to him, unsure of what to do. Kizuna turned to him, letting his chest muffle her sobs. 

Briefly Eiji thought about all the signs that pointed to Kizuna and Juichiro and felt anger pool up inside him again with nowhere to go but in. 

And so the two of them sat together like that for minutes, Eiji hating himself and Kizuna quietly crying in his arms in the dim amber light of the lampshade in the room, the truth sitting between them, as heavy as a stone.

Later, after Kizuna had left, Eiji slipped back into his room quietly and removed his shoes, then took off his jacket and lay it gently across a chair. In the dark, he dressed down into a robe and slippers and then crawled into bed. Then, rethinking the heat, he got up and opened the door to let the breeze in.

From this part of the balcony, he had a glimpse of the dirt road by the front of the hotel, the forest beyond it illuminated only barely by the lights of the lobby. He thought about all the stories he’d heard as a child— about the forest and its ghosts, about the dark paths that never ended and ran back into each other, infinitely. And on the floor beside his bed, unopened since the time he had come back, was the book Ash gave him. 

He left the door and windows open and crawled back into bed. Feeling the wind on his face, he thought about the faint blue light that seeped into his room at sunset, thought about why it always made him feel like he was drowning. Partly because of the washed out shadows it brought with it, partly because it made him feel like he was underwater, suspended and perpetually separate from the pace of the world. 

Always on the outside, looking in. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- with the passing of the hotel development act in 1907, pre-war japan made efforts to make its tourism industry attractive to westerners. in 1940 the arrival rate of foreign visitors in japan peaked, right before the united states's entry into world war ii. of course, not everyone was into it-- the fast rate of modernization coexisted along with the rise of strong nationalist anti-west views.  
> \- though this fic is set in a fairly westernized setting (being a western-style hotel and all), i am not japanese (and therefore had to research alot about the time period in question) so any critique about the way the culture and history is represented is very very welcome!!  
> \- the scene with hisako's foot injury was inspired by that scene in the secret history, you know the one.  
> \- massive massive thanks to k and shifa for the beta!!  
> \- to all the peeps on twitter who encouraged me to post even though this is ridiculously late: a thousand times thank you. your kind words did a lot for my self-esteem as i was writing this. i'm getting better at meeting deadlines, i swear!!!  
> \- you matter. i love you, you are so precious and important, please take care of yourself.


End file.
